


The Oracle

by HermaiaMoira



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alchemy, Katz and Dogs!, M/M, Wendigo Hannibal, Witchcraft, fairytale AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 06:42:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3968314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermaiaMoira/pseuds/HermaiaMoira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fairytale AU featuring Katz and dogs! Beverly is asked to retrieve or destroy a powerful oracle possessed by Emperor Hannibal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Oracle

In another world, in a time so far from our own that it matters not whether it is in the past or in the future (as time, you should know, is cyclical) there stood two cities. One city was vast and prosperous, with towers carved from limestone and minarets lined with jade. It stood as a gilded dragon lounging covetously next to the munificent bay, and so it was called Ilanka. The city harvested bountiful resources from the bay: fish and crustaceans and lustrous pearls. The mountains that housed the opposite side were laden with precious stones.

The other city was called Mergele. The mountains they possessed were filled with coal and iron and heavy metals. They boasted a magnificent military that was well-armed with weapons created from these resources. Mergele’s army defeated any foe they came up against, and so the city grew as it conquered new lands. The emperor was named Jack, whose spirit was as strong and sharp as the blades his subjects forged.

The emperor of Ilanka, whose name was Hannibal, not only refused to share his wealth in trade with Mergele, but the borders of his city were steadily encroaching upon that of the other’s. He was a powerful wizard, capable of profoundly dark magic that preyed upon the deepest fears in humanity. He did not have access to the resources that made steel, and so his army was small, but nonetheless every effort by Jack’s army was vanquished immediately.

It came to Jack’s knowledge that Hannibal possessed an oracle of great power that gave him knowledge of every move he was about to make and every weakness in his plans. There was no use fighting Hannibal while he had the oracle to guide him. Desperate to protect his city, Jack consulted with his friend, the white witch Beverly. The witch’s powers were that of whimsy, stealth, alteration, and most especially alchemy. She created many potions and powders in her witch’s laboratory.

“Madame Beverly,” he said. “The oracle that Hannibal possesses is a danger to us all. You are the only one capable of guarding your thoughts against its predictive powers. You must infiltrate Hannibal’s palace and bring it back to us, or if it is too large or immovable, you must destroy it.”

Beverly was a spritely young woman with glinting almond-shaped eyes and an impish smirk. There was nothing she loved more than a good adventure. And, as she was a mischievous sort, an adventure that required the art of stealth was even more enticing to her.

“When shall I undertake this mission?” she asked.

“You must spare me the details, dear witch,” Jack warned her, “For Hannibal can look into the oracle and know my thoughts on the matter.”

So Beverly waited for a while before finally deciding at complete random that it was time. She had enveloped her mind with a protective spell against psychic magic. Jack knew nothing of her plan or that she was leaving that night with a satchel filled with her potions and her trusty crossbow with which she could practically thread a needle at twenty paces. It was two days’ journey to the inner walls of Ilanka.

Light of foot and silent as a deer stepping gently through the underbrush, Beverly scaled the walls and slipped past the patrolling guards on her way to the palace. With darting near-black eyes she surveyed the towers and then plucked a vial from her satchel. Opening it, she let a drop hit the ground. The middle tower lit up in a smoky green haze, a color most associated with jealousy and cruelty. It was a strange, sickly shade that made Beverly twitch. She was unsure what it meant, but the aura was stronger there than anywhere else in the palace and so she ventured forth and began to climb the stones of the palace wall.

She sprinted quietly along the top of the wall, unseen by the guards below. When she reached the door to the tower from a balcony, she whispered a funny poem to the lock and it must have found it very amusing for it snapped open for her. The stone steps inside spiraled upward and she could hear the sound of heavy armored boots descending. With a barely audible hiccup she placed her nimble feet on either wall and shimmied up so that her head touched the ceiling and she crouched like a spider as the guard passed beneath her.

Crawling along with her hands and feet spread between two walls and her head ducked low, she made her way up the staircase, watching with a suppressed giggle over the oblivious watchmen. When she finally reached the hallway at the top and saw the massive door guarded by two heavily armored men, she dropped down on soft leather shoes and squatted in wait, thinking of the best action to take.

She reached into her satchel and pulled out a potion. She put it to her lips and sipped the pungent concoction, then replaced it in her bag as her body began to shrink. When she had reached a tiny size, she sprouted legs all over and her torso stretched thin. When she had taken on the form of a slender, skittering centipede, she darted for the door. She was wary of the guards’ heavy boots, but they did not move from their positions nor did they notice the little bug creeping up the door and into the keyhole.

Once inside, Beverly swelled to her normal shape and form and glanced around the room. In the center was a jeweled box the size of a wardrobe. It gleamed in the light of the sconces on the wall. She walked up and ran her finger over the mechanical lock. She hummed to it a refrain from an old melody, and the lock twisted and popped in happy response.

When she opened the box, her eyes went wide and her mouth hung open. Inside, sitting cross-legged with his arms relaxed at his sides, his head tilted back, and his eyes closed in meditation, was a young man.

“Damn, I’m in the wrong room,” she said, louder than she intended.

The man’s eyes suddenly popped open and he started to shudder, looking around as if blinded by the light. He released a panicked scream and his hands flew up in front of his face as if waiting for impending violence. Beverly shot a glance at the door, but the guards did not respond. It occurred to her that they must not find it unusual for screams to come from this room.

When the man saw Beverly, his breath came out in hitching gasps as he said, “You’re not supposed to be in here.”

“You’re absolutely right and I’m terribly sorry,” she replied. “I’m looking for the oracle.”

The man twitched and blinked then said, “I… I am the oracle.”

Beverly stood back and stared at him with a creeping smile of realization. Then her smile faded as she looked over the jeweled cage.

“Hannibal keeps you in a box?”

“Yes, he has very strict procedures. You shouldn’t be in here.”

The man did not look directly at her. He shook all over and his voice trembled.

“How does it work?” Beverly asked, ignoring his anxious discomfort.

“What?”

“How are you able to foresee the future?”

The man stammered and answered, “I can sense emotions in people’s auras. I can see images of the future… or the past, in moments of high distress.”

“You have to be distressed?”

“Yes, when I feel fear and pain,” his voice cracked, “I see it play out before me as though I were in the moment.”

“That seems inconvenient,” Beverly mused. “One does not always experience fear and pain.”

“Hannibal,” he explained, “He… makes sure that I do.”

“How?” Beverly whispered.

“He shows me nightmares. He feeds on my greatest fears and forces me to live them. I see images of death, and monstrous creatures that…”

His voice broke out entirely and he shuddered. Beverly’s mouth hardened into a thin line and a storm built up behind her eyes.

The man went on, “He causes me pain; tortures me with burning heat and freezing cold. The only peace I find is in this box.”

His eyes focused on something far off. He seemed to go into a trance. He didn’t tell her that when Hannibal came to him he would use him for his own pleasure. That he would touch his body as it writhed in agony and run his fingers over his genitals and probe them inside of him as he screamed from the terrifying images that were forced into his mind.

Beverly had heard enough though. She could see the wetness in his eyes and the persistent twitch of his body. Jack had told her to fetch the oracle, or destroy it. She didn’t know how she could get a full-grown man out of the palace. It hadn’t been part of the plan. She dragged her fingers over the crossbow slung on her back. It would be a mercy to put this poor man out of his misery. But, as she looked into his eyes she saw blue pools of sorrow and in them a profound wealth of compassion and empathy.

“I have come to free you,” she finally said.

“I can’t leave,” he gasped. “He will find me. He will punish me, and kill you.”

“Don’t underestimate my abilities,” she said. “Although I’m not sure how we will accomplish our initial escape. I have the capacity to change myself, but not you.”

The oracle only shook his head. She reached out and took hold of his arm to pull him out of his cage, and he flinched so dramatically at the touch that she retrieved it quickly.

“I have potions that can cloud the minds of the guards, but I must know what thoughts to play with. Otherwise, they are ineffective.”

“I know what they are feeling,” he said.

“You can sense that?”

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the men outside the door. Their auras pulsed around their forms with a heartbeat.

“One feels like bittersweet nostalgia, perhaps a longing for something his mother would cook for him when he was a child waking up to the first chilly snowfall of the winter season.”

Beverly’s face broke out into a wide smile.

“The other man is worried. It feels like the pain of having a child who can’t recover from sickness.”

“I can’t work with pain,” Beverly informed him. “I am a white witch. I need something positive.”

“Underneath that is love,” he said. “I sense playfulness; perhaps a game that he would play with her as she sat on his knee in front of the hearth.”

“Perfect,” she whispered, “Come on.”

The oracle stumbled out of the box and stared ahead at the doors.

“I am afraid,” he whispered.

“What is your name?” she asked.

The man seemed to have to think for a moment, to access information that he didn’t always utilize.

“Will,” he said. “My name… is Will.”

“My name is Beverly. I know you are afraid, Will,” she soothed. “But the fear you have now is nothing like the fear you experience when Hannibal is here with you, is it?”

He swallowed and shook his head. They walked toward the door. Beverly opened something that looked like a snuff box, took a pinch of a blue powder out and blew it through the keyhole. As soon as she heard the sounds of laughter and happy cooing on the other side, she opened it.

The guards were leaning against the wall in a daze. They passed by them unnoticed and as they descended the stairs, Will told her what he sensed as she scattered her powder in front of the guards.

When they reached the walls, Beverly folded her hands in front of her and gave her companion a boost up. They escaped into the night and over the hills toward Mergele.

When dawn started to break, they stopped to rest and have something to eat on some rocks beside a cliff that looked over the sea. Beverly had only packed enough food for herself, but she thought if she rationed it they could share and maybe find some berries along the way to supplement it.

As soon as Will sat down and had a moment to think, he began to shake again. His breathing became rapid and he put his head in his hands.

“Are you ok?” Beverly asked. “I know it's a stupid question considering neither of us can possibly be ok in this situation, but, are you ok?”

“He’s going to realize I am gone any moment now,” he answered. “And then we both will suffer.”

Beverly could see that he was beginning to panic. His chest heaved with each breath and his stormy blue eyes were cringing in despair. She sat down next to him and put a hand on his back. He flinched as before, so she lifted the hand, waited for him to relax, and then touched him again. He seemed to ease into it, but he was still trembling.

“How long has it been since you were last outside?” she asked in a soft voice.

“I was a very young child when they came and took me.”

“So there are many wondrous things in this world that you have never seen,” she said.

He cocked his head and glanced at her below eye level.

“What kinds of wondrous things?”

“I once met a wizard,” she told him. “Who created tiny homunculi. People so small they could fit on a grain of rice.”

Will smiled and sniffed a laugh. Beverly reached out and brushed a dark curl out of his eyes and Will closed them and shivered from the gentle touch. She realized gentleness wasn’t something he was used to experiencing.

“I once saw people living in a mossy forest. They looked like angels, with wings where we have shoulders, smooth as ravens’ claws.”

“That sounds beautiful,” Will said, imagining it in his mind.

“It was,” she replied, pressing her shoulder against him. “You will see lots of beautiful things.”

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing at the contraption on her back.

“Oh, that’s my crossbow,” she replied. “You want me to show you how it works?”

Will nodded, and Beverly stood. She aimed it at a nearby tree and fired, skewering the bolt into a small nook.

“Here, give it a try.”

Will stood and took the crossbow. She stepped behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, maneuvering his hands into place. Will pulled the trigger and the bolt missed the mark, landing in a tuft of grass.

“Your shoulders are tight,” she advised, pressing gently on his right shoulder.

Will tried to relax as Beverly loaded another bolt. She then flared out his left elbow and said, “See if that helps with the recoil.”

He pulled the trigger and this time the bolt hit the tree, although nowhere near the mark.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Beverly said with a grin.

Suddenly the hair on her neck stood on end as she heard the thunderous sound of hoof-beats in the distance. She looked up and could see a small cavalry beating their way toward them.

“No,” Will whispered.

“Run!” she called out and the two of them began to race in the opposite direction.

It was no use. As they darted over the crest of the hill, they could see they were flanked on the other side. Beverly grabbed her crossbow and spun around, knowing the effort was futile.

“You’ve taken my most prized possession,” Emperor Hannibal said as he rode up on a horse. “I’ve come to reclaim it.”

“He’s not an ‘it!’” Beverly shouted, aiming her crossbow at the man. She knew she couldn’t take the cavalry down, but she could at least kill the monster they followed.

Hannibal climbed down off of his horse. He chuckled, cocking his head and staring at her through heavy-lidded eyes.

Suddenly Beverly found herself surrounded by the city of Mergele. But it wasn’t like her home. It was freezing cold and she waded up to her shins in thick, putrid-smelling muck. The buildings that she grew up with and loved were smeared with the stinking filth, and their walls rotted and sagged as the wind blew through them. A fearful bleat escaped her throat. She looked around her and saw the bloated corpses of her friends lying face down in quagmire. Over their bodies, shadowy hideous creatures scavenged for maggot-infested meat. Her city had been overcome by a dark and insidious magic, the likes of which no light magic could dissipate. A tear rolled down her cheek.

Then she felt a firm grip wrap around her throat. She blinked, and the city was gone. She was back beside the cliff, surrounded by soldiers, and Hannibal had her in a chokehold.

“Jack sent a white witch… to _me_?” he hissed in her ear.

She slouched in his arms as her vision went dark.

“Beverly!” Will cried out and ran toward Hannibal. The emperor struck him with a wave of magic and he fell back on the ground, writhing as though covered in biting, stinging insects.

Hannibal dragged Beverly to the edge of the cliff and pushed her off. He watched her drop into the waves below.

“No,” Will groaned, “No, no, no.”

Hannibal lifted him up and threw him over the back of his horse. They rode back to the palace.

Once inside the guarded room, Hannibal shoved Will to the floor. The oracle curled up into fetal position, mourning the loss of the only person he could have ever called friend.

“You are mine, oracle,” Hannibal told him. “I will prove it to you.”

He cast a spell on him and suddenly to Will’s eyes Hannibal transformed into a gigantic beast: half man, half stag. Massive, branching antlers sprouted from his head, and his feet turned into cloven hooves. His skin was the color of coal and his eyes were burning maroon.

“Please!” he begged, and his cries were answered with a jolt of burning pain that spread through his body like a fever. He thrashed on the ground.

The horned beast crouched down and ripped away Will’s clothing with fierce talons. He pinned him down and spread his legs apart with his own muscular furry limbs.

“My slave,” Hannibal murmured to him as he pushed his cock inside of him.

Will moaned through gritted teeth, the pain shooting into him. Hannibal grabbed Will’s hips and lifted his ass up, then pushed his shoulders down forcing him into a subjugated arch. He thrust into him, harder, faster, until the noises he brought out of Will filled him with sadistic glee. He dragged his sharp talons over Will’s back, leaving behind long red marks. He spread him wider and pulled the young man’s pale hips against his, slapping his ass against his groin as he violated him.

Will felt the room around him slip away. Through his fear and pain, he experienced an oracle’s vision. He could see Beverly hitting the foamy waves below the cliff. He watched her sinking into the cold water, paralyzed by the force of hitting its surface.

After slipping deeper and deeper into the dark sea, her fingers began to curl. She could not move her arms or kick her legs, but her lips began to move. Air left her lungs as she spoke into the abyss.

Around her formed a wavering bubble, which grew and grew until it encompassed her in a circle of oxygen. The bubble began to float slowly toward the surface. When it breached, it popped, and Beverly burst out, her long dark hair flinging upward with a splash. Finally able to move her aching arms, she pulled herself onto a flat rock and lay heaving against it. She lost consciousness, but Will could see her chest moving with each breath.

That is when the vision ended. For at that moment, Will no longer felt afraid.

**Author's Note:**

> TBC? I dunno!


End file.
